


Living Deliciously

by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, mentions of past rape, the vvitch au no one asked me to write but I did anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/hipgrab
Summary: “Black Ben,” she whispers. “I conjure thee to speak to me.”





	Living Deliciously

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading about the Salem With Trials lately, which inspired me to watch The VVitch, which inspired me to write this. Enjoy.

Rey shuts the barn door behind her, Unkar Plutt’s drunken bellows muffled behind the heavy wood. She walks swiftly to the goat pen, unlatching the little gate.

They only have the one goat. They’d had two, a nanny and a billy, but the black billy had killed the nanny. 

“He’s a mean thing, ol’ Black Ben,” Plutt had said while he and Rey cleaned up the mess. “Careful ‘round him, or you’ll go the same way as poor Flora.”

But Rey’s never been afraid of Black Ben. Not the way Unkar is. One time, after Plutt had blackened her eye, Black Ben had gored the farmer’s leg, and the farmer had steered well clear of him ever since. He’d never hurt Rey, though, and sometimes eats oats straight from her hand. No, she isn’t afraid of Black Ben, even if perhaps she ought to be. 

She crouches in front of the billy goat, looking straight into his black eyes. 

“Black Ben,” she whispers. “I conjure thee to speak to me.”

The goat blinks at her.

“Black Ben,” she says again. “Speak, if thou be the devil.”

The goat does not move. Swallowing, she says his name a third time. “Black Ben, if thou be the devil, I charge thee to speak.”

Shadow consumes the goat and she can see him no more.

“What dost thou want?” a deep, rich voice asks.

Rey licks her lips. “What canst thou give?”

“Wouldst thou like the taste of butter? A pretty dress? Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”

“Yes,” she says at once.

“Wouldst thou like to see the world?” 

She nods eagerly. “What will you from me?”

“Dost thou see a book before thee?”

She does, though how or when it came to be there, she has no idea. Behind it, she sees a pair of black leather boots. Black Ben is no longer a goat, but a man. Or something like a man, anyway.

“Remove thy dress.”

She does, unlacing the worn material and letting it pool at her feet. She takes off her bonnet and boots as well, standing before him in only her shift and stockings.

“And thy shift.”

She does, goosepimples running up and down her body as she slides the thin cotton shift down her arms. She rolls off her stockings as well, leaving herself bare before him. She feels him press in behind her, one gloved hand curling over her shoulder. “I cannot write my name,” she confesses, trembling.

“I will guide thy hand,” he murmurs, wrapping his fingers around hers and bringing her hand to the page. Three characters appear on the page in blood-red ink. She realizes it  _ is _ blood--though whose, she cannot say. 

“What now?” she breathes.

“Now,” he says quietly. “You give yourself to me.” He turns Rey slowly, and even in the blackness she can see a pair of glittering eyes looking down at her. She tips up her head in defiance. She is a witch now--she has no need to be afraid of him. 

“Then take me.”

Black Ben pushes her gently to the straw. She finds herself on her back, his body hovering over hers. She closes her eyes, taking a deep, shaking breath. 

“Dost thou fear me?”

“No,” she says honestly. “I only...I hate to lie on my back.” It reminds her of too many nights with Unkar, the nights she wasn’t quick enough to get away. 

There’s a gentle pressure on her hips, and then he’s the one lying back on the hay while Rey straddles his hips. His gloved hand strokes her between her legs, sending a thrill up her spine. Despite the chill in the night air, she feels hot and slick down there. She rolls her hips into his hand, gasping as she feels more pleasure than she’s ever known in her life. Is this living deliciously? 

Black Ben withdraws his hand, but before Rey can protest, he guides her hips and pulls her down onto his cock. She cries out, the sensation pleasurable where it only ever hurt before. She rocks herself on him, a gasp of surprise as the pleasure only increases. Black Ben’s eyes glitter up at her, a smile on his face as she rides him. 

She rides until pleasure seizes her, curling her toes and arching her back as she sings a song with no words. He thrusts up into her, filling her with his seed. When he has spent himself inside her, he rolls them onto their sides, their limbs entangled as he nips at her neck.

“Dost thou require this of all thy witches?” she breathes.

He chuckles, a low, deep sound that she can feel in her chest. “Art thou jealous?”

She doesn’t answer, and this only makes him chuckle again.

“Jealousy is a bitter taste for one who lives deliciously.” He strokes her chin. “Nay, little witch--I favor thee. Why else dost thou think I waited so long for thee?”

Rey flushes. “What happens now?” 

“Now, I take thee to a communion of witches, and if thou wishes, thou shalt fly.”

“I wish to fly.”

“Then let us go.” He sits up, Rey following.

“But...my master,” she starts to say, remembering Unkar Plutt.

“He shall never bother thee more.” Black Ben rises, holding out a gloved hand. “Rey. I wish thee to join me.”

Rey takes his hand without hesitation. 

  
  



End file.
